


Biology

by blackteeth0



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackteeth0/pseuds/blackteeth0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are things you don't ask a person, and things you can't reasonably expect them to know even if you'd asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Biology

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Биология](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3404351) by [Lazurit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazurit/pseuds/Lazurit), [WTF_Star_Trek_2015 (WTF_Star_Trek_Reboot_2014)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WTF_Star_Trek_Reboot_2014/pseuds/WTF_Star_Trek_2015)



 

Julian was not prepared for this.

 

Physically, mentally, probably even emotionally, yes. Just not academically.

 

Years on Deep Space Nine had given him the chance to become familiar with an awful lot of biology. He knew Bajorans almost better than Humans by now, and he could treat a wound on a Klingon in his sleep. Few people had worked on so many Ferengi outside of Ferenginar, and he could guess that no one else had ever bothered treating a Jem'Hadar.

 

But one man can't know everything, augmented genetics or not. There is always something to look up, to research, to learn.

 

This is frustratingly true in the case of Cardassians. Julian knew more about them than the Changelings, he suspected, only because there were more Cardassians in the quadrant. When they abandoned Terok Nor and grudgingly let it become Deep Space Nine, the Cardassian forces there took details from their infirmary with them. Weaknesses, common allergies, ailments that may affect the very young or very old of their people, information on degenerative diseases, all gone with Dukat's men.

 

All they left was faulty wiring, voles, and Garak.

 

And Garak had been educational. Even when he didn't want to be. Prying into the things that lay, at one time literally, inside that man's brain had done wonders for Julian's understanding of Cardassians, and, combined with physicals and treatments for people like the boy Rugal and Tekenny Gehmor, had significantly fleshed out the generic template of information he'd been able to scrape out of the Starfleet Medical files.

 

But, with so many species to work on, and so many ways they could _combine,_ Julian still was never going to know everything. Thanks _repeatedly_ to Gul Dukat, he knew that Cardassians and Bajorans could reproduce. Starfleet history and enrollment records told him of successful Klingon/Human hybrids, Betazoid/Human hybrids, and Vulcan/Human hybrids. (Though that last one, much like Klingon/Trill, had to be tinkered with a bit.) Humans seemed the default mixer, and he'd unfortunately seen enough in the infirmary to know that Klingons were working on catching up. 

 

All this leads back to pairs with Cardassians, which leads to Garak.

 

There are things you don't ask a person, and things you can't reasonably expect them to know even if you'd asked. Sometimes, those things are the same. “ _Are your lips scaly?”_ for example.  _“Can you feel things though your scales like I feel them on my skin, or are the ridges more like callouses?”_ perhaps. Or, “ _Would ridges and microscales feel something like stubble if we hypothetically kissed?”_

 

Recently, that last one became less hypothetical and more ' _happening with increasing frequency,'_ and answers to these and many other questions quickly followed. Even removing the Garak-specific questions (' _Is this smart?' 'Will this turn into a literature pop-quiz?')_ , which will likely never have answers, the experience is still just as educational as it is enjoyable.

 

The lips currently pressed to Julian's throat are certainly  _textured_ , but scaly isn't quite the right descriptor. 

 

Garak can feel things just as subtle as Julian can if the kind of purr he makes when Julian lightly brushes one single scale on his shoulder is any indication. 

 

Unfortunately, having never kissed anyone sporting stubble, Julian can't make any comparison negative or positive to kissing someone with ridges and scales. He had, however, expected the shape of Garak's nose to be more difficult to deal with, and the ridges on his face to be softer. 

 

Garak is drawn to Julian's neck, and frankly, the feeling the is mutual. This is where their overall shapes have the largest difference and the most novelty appeal. The textures of Cardassian ridges alone would be fascinating, but the tendons, the muscles, and the strength of the structure underneath them is just as incredible. There's power here, even if Garak is neither in the good physical shape of a operative, nor a young man. 

 

The strength is what makes Garak's gentle approach as much of a surprise as it is a tease. 

 

“You're not going to hurt me, you know.”

 

Garak laughs. It's a puff of air against Julian's neck, followed by the graze from the tiny line of ridges running down the center of his nose. “Not like this, I'm not.”

 

“Mmmm, are you  _planning_ to hurt me?” The ridges running from Garak's ear to his jaw almost massage Julian's cheek when he turns his head. “Because I might want to have a say in that.”

 

“Of course, my dear.” He kisses Julian's throat and adds just the faintest hint of teeth. “Wouldn't dream of having it otherwise. This just seems to me to be a strangely vulnerable spot.”

 

They're reclined on a Cardassian bed that is a slight improvement over the ones usually present on the station. There's a forty-five degree incline for conversation, torso support, and, apparently, casual introductions to the surfaces of interspecies anatomy.  It's positioned in a corner so that Julian's back is toward the wall, and Garak's toward the rest of the room. He'd feel a bit cornered if he were afraid of Garak, but this is turning out to be anything but frightening. At this angle, one of them need only lean toward the other with the slightest bit of weight and intent to turn this mild exploration into something a bit more in-depth.

 

“I suppose Humans would look – ah – a bit vulnerable compared to Cardassians.” The sensation of a bit more teeth on Julian's neck is paired with the weight of Garak's hip against his. 

 

“Most species do.” Garak's smug grin is damn near audible. 

 

Garak's focus on Julian's neck and jaw has made it hard for Julian to use much but his hands. Luckily, there's a tiny snap closure along the neck of Garak's tunic that Julian tugs free.  A flap of the garment now hangs open, exposing the line of ridges under Garak's collar bones that meet at his sternum in a structure mirroring the one on his forehead.  This would not be the right time to ask the proper Cardassian names for these, as much as Julian wants to. 

 

 This is more than Julian's ever seen of Garak outside of the infirmary, and in this context, it might as well be the first time he's seen it. “You're going to have to give me some instructions if this is going where I think it's going.” 

 

Garak unhooks a fastening at the base of Julian's throat. “Here I thought they – ah, do be careful. There, that's lovely – I thought they taught you things in that Academy of yours.”

 

It's complicated getting at Garak's collar bones while Garak himself is nearly on top of him and completely enamored with his neck, but it's worth the slight contortion for the occasional breathy catches in Garak's speech.  “They do. But would you believe the biology of a particularly xenophobic race just can't be extensively covered without their consent?”

 

"No one's biology should be covered without their consent. Wouldn't you agree?”

 

“It – mmm – makes situations like this a bit lop-sided, however.”

 

“I'd say you're doing well.” He rests a hand on Julian's hip with his thumb pressing just inside the hip bone. It has the potential to be extremely distracting. “If you'd like, we can perform an inspection of the other vulnerable spots on your species, and I can tell you what should be improved.”

 

“I'd like to propose a trade.”

 

“I could be persuaded – mmmm, yes, that right there is a fine argument.”

 

This is all new. It's difficult to know whether to approach this as a scientist or a man thoroughly enjoying a completely alien partner, but he has hope that his enhanced brain will let him do both. What he's learned as a doctor and a scientist lets him know what buttons to push, what scales to attend to, what to expect in general under Garak's clothing, and, in a particular instance, what to expect under his scales.

 

“It seems to me you have all this _hair_ in places where one ought to have protection. You defy logic being so lovely, my dear.” Garak seems to enjoy Julian's body now, but will he be so interested once things get a bit messy?

 

“In theory, it keeps me warm and keeps me from sticking to myself if I start to sweat, among other things.”

 

Sweat.  _Oh_ . He's not prepared for this. Emotionally, physically, and mentally, yes. 

 

But academically-- 

 

Julian tries to prop himself up against the pressure of Garak's hands and mouth. “Ah-wait, I think- I think I need to look something up.”

 

“That is the _worst_ excuse I've ever heard,” Garak says against his neck. “And I spent several years conducting interrogations.” To his credit, and giving his consent line a bit more weight, he stops what he's doing to listen to what Julian has to say.

 

“No, no, I mean it. This isn't something I've done before, and I just need to check on-”

 

Garak leans away from Julian, unpinning him, but he's still an obstacle between Julian and rest of the room.  He reaches out to trace Julian's jaw, and Julian lets him. It's pleasant, no matter much he needs to get to a database. “Aren't you Federation types always going on about new frontiers?”

 

“That's... terrible. And not what I meant.” He turns his face into Garak's touch and smiles into it. “It's not that I don't _want_ to, or that I don't have an idea of what I'm doing with you, but I need to make sure we're not going to kill each other.”

 

Garak blinks. “You do know I'm Cardassian and not Klingon?”

 

“Yes, but I need to ensure neither of us has any sort of surprise bodily fluid that's going to melt the skin off the other one. Let me up.”

 

Garak pulls his lip and his hand back in disgust. “Gladly.”

 

Julian climbs over him to find a discarded PADD on a table in the center of the room, and as he's accessing the biological database, realizes that unless Dukat also slept with a Human and documented it, the information he needs is likely not in there, but in the body of the man he's just inadvertently teased.

 

“I don't suppose you've ever slept with a Human?” Julian asks, hastily paging through what information exists in the system.

 

“Let it not be said that I wasn't _trying_.”

 

There are things you just don't ask someone, and there are things they wouldn't know the answers to even if you did ask.

 

Julian flinches. “I don't suppose you know anything about the chemical composition of secretions in your species...?”

 

“About as much as you know about proper mood, it would seem.” Garak gets to his feet and refastens his tunic.

 

It's not exactly stimulating to Julian either, but he's not interested in anyone getting poisoned. However , if _stimulation_ is all that's required to test, surely some gloves and a bit of time spent going over vulnerabilities until the results processed through the computer...

 

“What would you say to me finding you in about ten minutes to – _slowly –_ obtain a sample? For science. Mood intact.”

 

“I could be persuaded.”

 

“Then I might even propose a trade.”

 

And there are some things, rather than asking, you obtain best through experience.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
